Ink
by TMBlue
Summary: Mid-DH: Hermione never thought of herself as reckless, but the night after she alters her parents' memories, her and Ron go out together for what may be their last night of freedom, returning with something to remember the night by...


**Ink**

**Chapter 1 - Ad Initium**

Sparks crackled in the fireplace, a harsh glow bouncing off the surfaces of the room from the roaring flames, the only active source of light in the house. Hermione stared, arms crossed tightly over her chest, into the fire she had just built, taking a small amount of satisfaction in the knowledge that she had finished this one small thing, accomplished this one task. She waited now, impatiently, for a knock on the door. She had been expecting it for hours, and now that she had nothing left to do, she felt each second tick past with agonizing sluggishness. She could even hear them, each second, as they ticked by in the grandfather clock behind her.

Darkness loomed at odd angles inside the clock, the pendulum appearing larger than normal with its cold, black shadow behind it against the cherry wood. Hermione turned to face it finally, when she could no longer stand it, and her eyes focused on the second hand as it slowly moved around the edge. It was half past ten. Mere minutes had passed since she had last checked the time, and each glance backwards made time pass even slower. She had tried to be strong, to look away and think of something else, but there was nothing else to think of. Her heart was racing, her pulse a bit too fast, and her legs shook slightly where she stood, unwilling to sit down. She had resisted the urge to pace the carpet in front of the fire, but she wasn't sure now how much longer she could hold out.

And then finally, the knock she had been waiting for resounded, softer than she had anticipated, but it still made her jump, a gasp escaping her as her wide eyes turned towards the source of the sound - the front door down the long, dark hallway to her right. For a moment, her legs failed her. Her arms unlocked and dropped limply to her sides. Her chest rose and fell heavily with each sharp breath. But suddenly, as if snapped out of a trance, she ran for the door. Her trembling hand unfastened the lock and clutched the cold bronze of the door knob. She turned her hand counterclockwise, but stopped midway through. She knew it was him. He was expected. But she also knew what she had to do first...

"Password," she said, her voice wavering as she spoke the word, and for a moment, she wasn't sure he had heard her.

"Ad initium," came his soft voice from the other side after a brief pause.

Her eyes fluttered shut at the sound of his voice and her hand turned the knob automatically to let him inside. She stepped back as the door swung on its hinges, her eyes slowly opening again to look up at him where he stood on the porch. He wore all neutral colors, a dark brown jacket and jeans, and a dark colored shirt beneath. It made the contrast seem almost comical between his wardrobe and his bright ginger hair. He nodded once, gave her a small smile, and she stepped back further to allow him to enter. He stepped up into the foyer and she shut the door behind him, leaning against it for a moment and staring up at him. He stared back, his eyes darting to take in her appearance, every feature of her face. She felt him reading her, and she allowed him to, knowing that he knew her so well that he'd see right to her soul, to the things she wouldn't say, at least not yet.

"Hi," he said after a moment, his smile turning a bit lopsided and much sadder than she knew he wanted it to seem. He stepped towards her slowly, his eyes never leaving hers.

She tried to say something back, just to greet him, something simple, but she realized that if she spoke, she would allow her voice to crack with emotion. She wouldn't be able to stop it. So she simply nodded. He took one more step and embraced her, pulling her towards him. She closed her eyes, resting her head on his chest and moving her arms around him too.

"God, Hermione, I wanted to be here when you did it. I wanted to help you," he said over the top of her head, his arms still around her. "I'm so sorry."

He pulled back from her much too soon, removing his arms. Reluctantly, she lifted her head and turned her wet eyes up to his.

"It's alright," she managed to say. "I understood."

"I know you did," Ron said, a note of awe in the way he spoke, openly admiring the fact that she could be so strong, so logical, when something so important in her life had just been taken away.

Awkwardness crept up on them as they continued their silent stare, the glow from the fire in the room behind them just barely reaching their faces down the long hallway. A deep shadow cast by Ron's nose spilled across his already darkened face.

"Come on," Hermione instructed as she stepped past Ron. "Come sit down." She felt him following her closely without even having to look back, and it comforted her more than she could explain.

He sat next to her on the couch, very close but not touching. He seemed lost, unsure of what to say, and Hermione didn't know how to begin a conversation, how to improve the situation, to make it easier for both of them to move on. The clock ticked on, adding its own sound to the quiet room. The occasional crackle of the fire was the only other noise besides their breathing for a few moments, both of them staring forward solemnly as if they were attending a funeral. And finally, with a small sigh, Ron looked to his right and watched Hermione until she looked over at him.

"Are they..." Ron began, and Hermione watched his throat bob as he swallowed, clearly nervous to ask about what had happened, and obviously unsure if she wanted to talk to him about it at all.

"They're in bed," Hermione said softly. "When they wake, they'll be new people. They'll leave in the morning."

Ron nodded. Hermione was aware of the fact that he knew all these things already. She had told him everything, each step of what she would do, but it was easier all of a sudden to talk about the plan then to do anything else, or to try to ignore it altogether. Ron had called her on the phone several days ago. She had been so shocked to hear his voice when she'd pressed the receiver to her ear that she had nearly dropped it...  
_  
"Hermione?!" Ron shouted, and she winced, moving the phone away from her ear slightly. "Can - you - hear - me?!"_

_Hermione laughed and closed her eyes briefly as she moved the phone cautiously back to her ear._

_"Yes, Ron," she said gently. "You don't have to shout, remember?"_

_"Mental..."_

_"Just talk normally," Hermione said through a giggle. "I can hear you clearly."_

_"But how... You know what? Nevermind," Ron said, and Hermione could hear a mixture of confusion and dismissal in his tone. "Not even going to try to understand a bloody Muggle telephone..."_

_Hermione grinned at the fact that Ron had actually gotten the term correct. She wondered if it had been as simple as a lucky guess or if he had really tried to remember..._

_"I... well, Mum wouldn't let me send an owl to you, so... I thought..." Ron trailed off, but Hermione understood. On more than one occasion, she had wished she had planned a call with Ron before they parted on the platform. She knew they would not be able to contact one another safely for a while, and she could hardly bear to not know what was going on. But more importantly, she couldn't stand not being able to communicate with him, to hear his voice or even see his handwriting on a wrinkled piece of parchment, for an undetermined amount of time. She knew that Ron's father had an old Muggle phone and that he had somehow made it work. Ron had used it once before._

_"I'm glad you called," Hermione said softly, feeling shy about her admission._

_"Good," Ron said back, and she heard the nervous chuckle in his voice. "So what's been happening?"_

_This was the question she was expecting, the one that forced her to face the things she had planned, the conversation she had been dreading, because she didn't know what he'd say, what he'd think about what she had to do. But she knew she had to do it. There was no other option now. She sighed shakily and sat down at the kitchen table, clutching the phone tightly, pressing it almost painfully to her ear._

_"I... I've made a plan," she began. When he said nothing in response, she continued. "I... Oh, Ron, it's so horrible!"_

_"What is?" Ron asked, a slight panic rising in his tone._

_"My parents, they're in danger now," Hermione started again, taking a few calming breaths in between sentences to prepare herself, to steady her nerves. "And I have to protect them. It's my fault they're in danger, in a way."_

_"No, it's not," Ron countered. "You didn't choose to be a target."_

_"I know," Hermione sighed, "but I did choose to be involved, even after I knew what it would mean."_

_"That's bravery, it's who you are, and it's not a choice you made because you didn't care. It's kind of the opposite if you think about it," Ron said, sounding a little awkward._

_Hermione smiled, feeling comforted by his words._

_"Thank you," Hermione breathed, her cheeks reddening even though he could not see her. He cleared his throat, and she could almost feel him blushing too. "But now," Hermione continued, ready to get this over with, to tell him what she had to say so she could be free of this burden of being the only one to know, a secret she had to keep in order to make it work. "I know You-Know-Who's followers will come looking for me, and... they'll question my parents when we're gone. You know they won't spare a thought for their lives. And I..." She trailed off, swallowing her fear, her breath coming out shakily as she prepared her next words. But Ron beat her to it._

_"What can you do?" Ron asked, sounding a bit clueless and slightly scared of what she might say she had in mind._

_"I'm going to send them away... and change their memories," Hermione said quickly. There was a long pause during which Hermione closed her eyes, waiting for Ron's response. Finally, after what seemed like years, she heard him breathe._

_"How are you going to do it?" he asked, his voice timid and soft as if he was afraid of being overheard._

_"I... I've worked on the theory, read a lot about how to... alter memories... and I... I don't think they should know... anything about me... when it's done... I'm going to do it, then stun them overnight. They'll wake up the next morning with... no memory of me at all."_

_"Hermione..." Ron said in a near whisper, surprise and slight horror evident in his tone._

_"It's for the best, don't you think?" Hermione asked, sounding unsure all of a sudden. She needed his support before she'd be able to do it, needed him to back her up so she wouldn't be alone in this..._

_"Yes," he finally said, "I guess you're right." Hermione nodded, knowing he couldn't see her._

_"I'm going to do it the day after tomorrow," she said softly. She heard him make a frustrated sound._

_"Bloody hell," he mumbled. "Hermione, I want to help you." Her eyes widened. She hadn't expected him to say what he had, even though now that he'd said it, it made a lot of sense. She smiled, feeling her eyes fill with tears. "I know I'm a bit rubbish at complicated spells," Ron continued, "and this sounds way out of my league..." He sighed softly. "But I want to be there to... I dunno... just... because..."_

_"Ron..." Hermione cried softly, feeling overwhelmed by his kindness._

_"But Hermione," he said after a moment, "I just don't think there's any way Mum will let me leave the house. And even if she agreed, she'd force me to go with an escort of about a hundred fully qualified Aurors... and I doubt the Ministry can spare that many of them at the moment." Hermione tried to laugh lightly at his joke, but it came out as a strangled sob. "I'm sorry..." he added when he heard her crying lightly._

_"Oh, Ron," she said softly. "Just the fact that you want to be here for me is..." She sniffed, not really knowing how to finish her sentence._

_"Look," Ron continued, and she sensed that he was planning something, "I'd just run away and not tell anyone, but that would quite likely give Mum a heart attack if she found out I was gone before I got back. But," he went on, before Hermione could scold him for his reckless idea, "you shouldn't be in your house alone after you've sent your parents away."_

_"Ron, I don't want anyone to know what I'm going to do. It's not really very... legal..." Hermione said guiltily._

_"Then I'll just tell Mum that your parents are going away for their safety and leave out the bit about you sending them off as different people," Ron said. Hermione held back a sob, and Ron seemed to suddenly realize that his words might have seemed a bit insensitive. "Sorry!" he shouted quickly._

_Hermione shook her head, unable to speak._

_"I just meant that," Ron tried again, quickly attempting to cover his mistake, "you should be here with us and... and I don't have to tell Mum what you're really doing for her to agree with me. Maybe she'll let me come and get you... and you know, I've just realized, I'm seventeen. She can't really stop me..."_

_"Ron," Hermione cut in, "don't upset her like that. I can find a way to get there myself."_

_"I'll talk to her," Ron said quickly. "She'll talk to dad and they'll work something out. I'll be terrified if you try to come here alone."_

_Hermione smiled, wishing that he'd just stay on the telephone with her for the rest of the night. But she heard a click and the sound of keys jangling. Her parents had arrived home from work._

_"Ron," she said quickly, standing up, "my parents just got home from work. I've got to go."_

_"Okay," Ron said, sounding rushed and overwhelmed. "What time will you do it?"_

_"Friday. After dinner."_

_"There's supposed to be a meeting here at the Burrow that day. I'll have to come to get you with an Auror and they won't be able to leave until after... Damn it," Ron complained, his voice a bit desperate. "Then I'll come right after. I'll be there, Hermione. I swear I will. After dinner."_

_She sniffed loudly, trying to hold back her tears as she heard the front door swing open. But a sudden thought occurred to her. A password..._

_"Ron, if you do make it, you'll need something... a password..."_

_"What-" Ron began, but Hermione rushed on._

_"Ad initium. Can you remember it?"_

_"Ad initium? Sure, but-"_

_"So I'll know it's really you," Hermione finished, her heart racing as she heard her parents shuffling through the door._

_"Okay," Ron said. "I'll be there."_

_"Thank you, Ron," she managed to say, tears welling in her eyes again. "Be careful..."  
_

_"I will. I'll see you Friday," Ron said back, his voice cracking very slightly. She wanted to say so many things, to tell him what she felt, how grateful she was, because just saying thank you didn't cover it. But she heard her parents chatting with each other as they entered the foyer, and she knew her time was up._

_"Friday," she said, nodding. "Goodbye, Ron."_

_"Bye, Hermione."_

_She hung up the phone before she knew if he was really gone, not wanting to be caught with bloodshot eyes when her parents entered the kitchen. And, quietly, she hurried out of the kitchen and into the back hall, heading straight for the loo. She closed the door and slid down it, listening to her parents' muffled voices as they talked happily to each other. She imagined that she could no longer hear them, that they were gone and she was alone. She tried to stop herself from feeling. It was easier that way, to separate herself from her life and her emotions than to have to know that soon, they'd be ripped to shreds._

_But finally, once her parents' voices had died and she could hear their footsteps on the stairs, she remembered something important, something she had used as strength when Dumbledore had died, when she had cried at his funeral, Ron's arms around her. Her emotions, no matter how blissful or despairing, were what kept her alive, kept her fighting. And all the mattered in the end were the things that set them apart, that made them different from Voldemort. And those things alone, when she really let herself believe in the possibility of succeeding, were what she knew would prevail, would cause them to win and to finally, after so many long years, be freed._


End file.
